


Relative Reality

by pony_express



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Doctor/Patient, M/M, au!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pony_express/pseuds/pony_express
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Doctor/Patient!AU, in which Castiel is convinced he is really an Angel of the Lord and only wants his doctor, Dean, to believe him. "Am I real, Dean?" Castiel asks, "Does this feel real?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relative Reality

"You need to tell him."

'Tell me something I don't know,' Dean thinks with a heavy sigh. He looks down and mumbles, "But why is it my job to tell him?"

"Because you trained for this job. And he is your patient. Your responsibility." Sam tells him as a matter of fact.

"But-" Dean would find any excuse. He really couldn't even bring himself to imagine telling his 'patient' the truth.

"He needs to know the truth." Sam is almost as good at stating the obvious as he is looking after his patients.

"I've tried before." Dean shakes his head at the thought. He still bared those scars, probably the physical ones too. 

"You can't carry on letting him believe-"

"Alright, alright. I will tell him. Again! And hopefully this time I want get stabbed."

"He's not going to hurt you Dean. He's not really an angel of the Lord." Sam almost laughs. He's remembering the first time it happened. And Dean knows it! 

"Shut up Sam. I know. I'm not worried about that. It's him and how he'll take it" Dean lets out a sigh.

"Just stop feeling sorry for yourself and tell him."

"I'm going. Jeez!" Although Dean doesn't move an inch. Sam laughs at little. Dean knows what's coming next.

"Dr Sam-" The small nurse with the blonde hair is rushing over. Sam turns to acknowledge her and then back to Dean with a little grin. 

"Tell him Dean!" 

#

Now outside his patients room, Dean breathed in and out, mentally preparing himself.

"Erm, Cas?" Dean entered the room and looked around, "Castiel? Cas?" He sighed. Where is the dude? "Goddamnit Cas!" he mumbled.

"You should never use the Lord's name in vain in my presences I am an Angel of the-"

"I know Cas." Dean is little taken back by Cas' voice coming from the shadows. He composed himself with a small smile. "But listen" he half smiled, getting down to business, "I need to tell you something."

"Yes, I understand."

"You do?" What do you understand? I haven't said anything yet."

"Of course, it isn't time for my observations or medication. So you must have come to tell me something."

"Yeah, great deduction Cas!" He sometimes hated how spot on Cas was.

"Well. . ."

Dean sighed, "Cas, you know. . ." He licked his lips, trying to think up the right words, "You're not really an angel of the Lord, don't you?"

"Dean I-"

"And that me and Sam are not supernatural fighting brothers." Dean cut him off. He's heard all this before. "We're not even brother's!"

"Maybe not in this universe, but-" Cas would never tire of this. He always had an answer for whatever Dean said. 

"There's no such thing as supernatural beings. No demons or angels. You're not one of them. They aren't real!" Dean began to raise his voice; he was getting more agitated. 

"But I am real Dean." Cas sounded almost childlike, "I am."

"Yes Cas, you are." Dean sighed, "But a real person . Not an angel. Angels aren't real." 

"I'm an angel and I am real!" Dean expected him to stamp his foot. "I am Dean. Tell me am real(?)"

"You are but-"

"No buts Dean!" Cas demanded, "I am really and so are demons and heaven and hell and the supernatural." Cas remained calm. 

"Cas. . ." Dean sighed again. Cas' calm approach had stopped Dean from raising his voice, but it still held its agitated tone.

Cas moved suddenly. It frightened Dean. 

"I am real. Dean, please, I am." The word please hit Dean's ears harder, and yet softer than any of the others. Cas was pleading to him. Cas' whole existence depended on how Dean responded to him. Dean felt the pressure on his shoulder, and a bit on the back of his knees.

The shock of hitting something caused him to turn to see what it was. He hadn't realised he'd been backing away from Cas until then.

"You can't be," he murmured. 

Dean turned back and was taken aback again by how close Cas was.

"Tell me Dean, is this real?" Cas almost whispered as his hand reached out to Dean's face, "Is this real?" 

Cas moved his head closer to Dean's, titling it a little. He carefully drew closer and closer, aiming for Dean's lips, "Am I real?" he whispered one more time before connecting their lips. 

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean. Dean moaned into Cas' mouth, and moved to deepen the kiss. Cas, however, pulled back. He looked at Dean expectantly. 

"Yes," Dean was flustered, "Yes, you are, but you're not. . ."

Cas' arm dropped from Dean. 

"You cannot be. . ." Dean sighed. "You just can't."

"I'm real, Dean, didn't you feel it?"

Yes, I felt it. You are real, but you're not really an angel.

Cas' lips are back upon his. His tongue pushing, seeking. He was needy, wanting. Not only did he want and need to show Dean he was real, but he was enjoying tasting Dean.

Dean started to kiss back again. Slowly at first. Building up his confidence and pushing that small voice in the back of his head telling him to stop away so that he could enjoy the feeling of Cas upon him.

Cas pushed him back against the wall when he briefly pulled back for the kiss. Dean fell willingly, like a sack of potatoes or a rag doll waiting for Cas to position him; play with him.  
Dean shouldered at the thought. To be played with by Cas. Cas was playing him. Taking him for a fool. Thinking he could make the supernatural real by kissing his doctor. 

Cas was approaching him, hips swaying a little. Dean cleared his throat.

Dean was hurtled up by Cas pulling on his coat. Cas turned him and pushed him against the wall, and a hand was in Dean's pocket. Cas removed the small tub of Vaseline from the Doctor's pocket and grinned.

"Keeping lube-" he began huskily.

"It's for-" Dean tried to explain, "Chapped. . . chapped lips," he explained through shaky breathes. 

He didn't hear Cas' answer; guessed it would be something witty casting doubt on Dean's statement. Cas had just been kissing those lips, they didn't feel chapped to him.

Fingers dipped into the jelly while the others danced across the Doctor's belt and trouser waistband. 

Dean gulped again. He was breathing as though air was limited; it felt that way. It was the same thick, heavy air Cas was breathing out, hot against his sensitive skin. A fresh breeze would see him right he thought.

Then he felt a breeze, between his thighs. It rushed straight for his cock and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Still not real though," Cas remarked casually. He'd warmed the jelly in his hand and although Dean couldn't see, he could tell by the sounds was working himself to hardiness. 

Dean let out another shaky breath and gulped too. He was in a state of shock. Fear and panic gripped him, the same way lust and want had, and he realised that was way he'd not called not for help, or on his training to get him out of this.

The lust fog settled as heavily around him as the air did; lingering and clinging, as Cas' skilful fingers came round to find Dean's cock. A sharp intake of breath and a devilish grin came next. 

Cas withdrew his playful fingers just as Dean's hips were beginning to match Cas' fist pumps. 

If Dean whinned at the lost of contact, Cas didn't call him out on it. The noise was soon replaced with a sharp hiss as Cas' cold fingers entered Dean's tight entrance.

The jelly on his fingers did little to help Cas or Dean. It was a bit of a welcomed warmth to Dean though and soon he was being fingered open, wide and ready for Cas.

Being explored in his way had caused him to leak pre-cum from his now throbbing erection. He was holding back tears as he tried to keep himself from coming undone in Cas' hands.

Cas remained quiet throughout and it only served to heighten Dean's fear. He expected to hear the repeated "Is this real? Does this feel real?" that his patient kept spouting out moments before. 

Sure, it felt real. The pain of having Cas enter him so violently without warning felt real enough.

The roughness was strangely erotic to Dean. He felt so close to the edge, but he wanted to last. For Cas. For his pride.

"C. . . C. . . Cas," Dean breathed, "So. . . So close,"

Dean was desperately trying to hold back from touching himself. He was leaking so heavily that he was sure he could no longer call it leaking. He wanted to get off from just Castiel in him. To prove to Cas that he was real. 

Cas said nothing. It was unnerving Dean. He knew Cas was still there; could feel him deep inside, could hear his huffs, could felt the warmth of his breathe against his neck. 

The air feeling thinner only served to heighten both their senses, but Dean was sure he felt it more. Cas seemed to only be there in body. He seemed distance. And Dean couldn't understand why.

If Dean could think, he'd be questioning Cas' actions. They weren't the actions of a normal person. A logical person would probably hit him, and ask if that pain felt real. Granted Cas had already tried and failed in that approach. 

Lust, perhaps, was a harder emotion to fake. Sexual attraction and sex itself was more intimate. Dean felt a surge of emotions and the pain was giving away to pleasure. 

If Dean let go of his questioning mind, and enjoyed the now pleasurable warmth he was sure he'd enjoy it as much as the rest of his body clearly was.

His cock was still painful. He wanted little more than to stroke himself to pleasure, to end this. But he also wanted it to last. Although he hadn't be explicitly told by Cas not to move from the position he was shoved in, he decided moving to help himself was a bad idea.

Cas would want him to get off by him only, he decided.   
He forced himself to hold back, clenching and unclenching his fists as Cas pounded into him.

"Cas. . ." he breathed. "Please"

Cas still said nothing. He continued to plough into Dean with only grunts and groans. 

Dean could no longer hold on. Clenching his fists one more time, while biting down, hard, on his bottom lip he came, covering his stomach and the wall in his pearly white liquid.

Cas grunted as he too, realised his load into Dean. He pushed in and out a further more times, milking himself and Dean for every last drop. Dean flexed and relaxed around his cock, as if his arse too was milking him. 

Cas almost pushed Dean off his now limp cock. Dean felt limp too, weak at the knees. He nearly fell on to the bed. He just managed to stand.

"I have to go" Dean stumbled over the words, and on his legs. 

He was barely able to re-just himself, fingers fumbling over his belt buckle. He turned to Cas, trying to read his face. Cas said nothing, simply sat on the bed, breathing in and out slowly. The silence was driving Dean insane.

"I. . ." Dean decided it was best not to say anything. Even if he could find the right words, he doubted Cas would listen. Even if he told Cas that felt real, he still didn't believe in angels. Fucking him into submission wasn't going to change a thing.

With shaky legs, Dean left Cas to go over what had just happened.

Dean, too, was reliving the last few minutes in his mind, wondering what he was going to say to Cas when they next met.


End file.
